


A Lizard By Any Other Name Wouldn't Be Apsu

by Illubuu



Series: Dungeons and Dragons [3]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Druids, Gen, Lizardfolk, Sewer life, egg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:55:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22192150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illubuu/pseuds/Illubuu
Summary: Once there was an Egg, taken from their Mother. That Egg would become a Lizard without a home. That Lizard would become Apsu, green as the sky is blue.
Series: Dungeons and Dragons [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1597036
Kudos: 3





	A Lizard By Any Other Name Wouldn't Be Apsu

Once, there was an Egg.

It was a very nice Egg. A good shape, and a good size. It was a pale tan, with speckled blue dots, and light green stripes. No other Egg looked like it. 

The Egg often rested in the Nest. It was a nice Nest. It was made of flowers and weeds and cloth. There wasn’t a lot of cloth, but Mother would bring back anything pretty she found to rest near her Egg. There was a blue cloth, a green cloth, and a white cloth with small red birds. There were other nests, but none of them were as well taken care of as this Nest. Mother made sure of that.

The Egg and their Mother made their home in the Swamp. There were other Mothers and other Eggs that all rested in the shallow waters and the thick trees. The birds in those trees were usually very loud, but they were also colorful. Mother liked to collect their feathers. There were small rodents that built their nests beneath the bushes and shrubs that would sometimes steal food from the Mothers. Those rodents would find themselves as that evening’s supper.

The Egg liked the Swamp. It was a peaceful place to rest. The sounds of the bugs and birds and water were like soft melodies that sang them to sleep. And sometimes Mother would sing. A set of gentle chirps and trills that she would whisper close to her Egg. 

The Egg could never pick which of Mother’s songs were their favorite.

Life in the Swamp was peaceful, until one day there was a Great Noise. It was not like the Thunder that would bring rains, nor the cries of any animal that the Mother’s shared the swamp with. This was a new sound that frightened the Mothers.

People, people who were not the Mothers, swarmed the Swamp. They hurt and they killed and they stole.

The Egg could do nothing as they were lifted from their Nest. They were put into a bag, far away from the warm sunlight and fresh air. They were jostled and bumped. Other Eggs joined them in this place. Some of them were broken. 

Mother would return to an empty Nest.

The Egg travelled far. Far from the Swamp. Far from Mother. 

The other Eggs slowly disappeared, taken from the bag until only the Egg was left.

The Egg had lost almost all its color. The Not-Mothers left them out in the sun, bleaching the speckles of blue and the stripes of green from the pale tan shell. They did not care for the Egg. Not like Mother had.

By some stroke of luck, or by the hand of something greater, when the Egg was let free from the bag, they did not fall into the hands of another. They rolled and rolled and rolled across the grasslands and the concrete and the dirt until they fell down a grate into the water below.

The current carried the Egg through its channels until it laid the Egg on a patch of mud. The mud was the not the Nest, but neither was it the bag. It was not pretty. There were no cloths of blue or green or white with red birds. It was not warm. There were no flowers or weeds. It was not gentle. There was no Mother.

But there the Egg rested. They rested until tiny cracks formed in the now white shell and the outer layer peeled away and a small green Lizard finally emerged.

The Lizard was alone. She did not know where she was. She did not know where Mother was. There should have been a Mother. But there was only water and brick and mud. She ate off the plants that the water sent to her. She wore her prints into the brick. She made a home out of the mud. 

The Lizard did not know what was outside the Sewers until she was 3. She had gotten big enough to hunt the rats that lived with her. She followed one through the maze of tunnels until she saw sunlight.

She remembered sunlight. She remembered its warmth and comfort. She stayed in the sunlight for a while, simply resting and waiting. It wasn't until a cloud had moved in front of the sun that she moved from her spot to continue.

Outside the Sewer was unfamiliar. The soft grass and dirt and trees were so incredibly different than the cold, hard concrete of the Sewer. It was not always damp. It did not always smell of rot and chill. There were colorful flowers that bloomed all around, like the ones that flitted at the edges of the Lizard's memory. She would spend hours here, in this field, picking the plants that would return with her to her Nest.

One day, on a particularly sunny morning, the Lizard saw something at the edge of the field. It was small and fleshy colored. Soft skinned, not scaled like her. They were picking flowers like she was, but wore brightly colored cloth that reminded the Lizard of something lost. White with red birds.

She decided to follow this small being a ways from the Sewer. The woods were dense and the Lizard had to weave her way through the trees to keep up.

The smell of the City hit her first. Aromas of spice and sweet floated on the air like a dream. She watched the Small One disappear into the crowd.

"Are you hungry?"

The Lizard turned to her right, seeing another fleshy being looking at her. This one had pointed ears. She clicked a few times and, when Pointed Ears gave her a strange look, she instead attempted his words. "Hun-gry?" 

Pointed Ears nodded and reached out to her with a round, tan object in his hand.

The Lizard took it and smelled it. It was warm. She took a bite. It melted in her mouth. She grinned and nodded. "Hungry?"

Pointed Ears laughed. "No, it's a bun. A sweet roll."

"Sah-weet roll," the Lizard repeated. 

Pointed Ears grabbed a piece of cloth - red with orange swirls - and placed a Sweet Roll inside it. He handed it over to her. "For the road."

The Lizard nodded, accepting the offer though she had no idea what he was telling her. She slunk into the crowd and followed the flow of people until she saw the Small One again. She was behind a wooden stall that was covered in flowers and plants.

The Lizard wandered closer, grabbing at a yellow flower that hung in a basket.

"Hey! You have to pay for that."

The Lizard licked at her eyeball. 

The Small One blinked. "Like, with money?"

"Money," the Lizard echoed. She watched as the Small One dug through her pockets to reveal a small shiny round piece. The Lizard had seen many such shiny things in the Sewer, of all shapes and sizes.

"If you have one of these, you can have that flower."

The Lizard paused, then looked up at the sky and saw the Sun. She had to get home. It would be Dark and Cold soon. She gave the Small One one last look before turning back down the road and returning to the Sewer.

The Lizard saw the Small One return to the flower field over the next few days and, each time, would follow her back into town. Pointed Ears would give her a roll and Small One would let her wander around her stall. She would sometimes slip out and take from the other stalls - a piece of jerky here, a rabbit leg there - but most of her time was spent near the Small One. She tried to offer the Small One any number of small shiny round things, but none of them seemed to appease her. 

"That's a can of beans," the Small One said, on a particularly cold morning.

The Lizard frowned. "Money?"

"Beans." The Small One sighed, and then clapped her hands. "What do you say I start giving you lessons?"

The Lizard waited.

"Show you the ropes. And get you something better than those rags you're wearing."

The Lizard waited again. The Small One reached behind her stand and pulled out a long, green piece of fabric. She handed it over and the Lizard took it.

"You put it around your neck," the Small One said. She mimed wrapping something around her head.

The Lizard did as the Small One instructed. The fabric was soft and somewhat stretchy. It felt nice against her scales.

"It's not a lot but..." The Small One smiled. "Green is definitely your color."

As the Lizard would learn over the next few months, the Small One's name was Addie, though the Lizard would rarely call her that. Small One seemed to fit her more snugly than Addie. She was a Gnome that had run away from her homeland and had struck out on her own.

"It's not a good place anymore," she had said. "Filled with greedy psychopaths. I didn't want to wait to see what would become of the place."

The Lizard nodded. 

"I sometimes wish I hadn't left. But other days I'm glad I did. I don't think you ever get over being homesick." The Small One looked up. "Do you have a name?"

The Lizard shook her head.

"A family? A home?"

"The Sewer," the Lizard replied.

"No, no. Like... where's your mom? Your dad?"

Those words meant nothing to the Lizard. She shook her head. 

"You've been alone this whole time?"

The Lizard nodded. She didn't know why the Small One looked so sad. She had been alone in those Sewers her whole life, save for the rats. 

"I'm sorry," the Small One said. "That must be awfully lonely."

"But," the Lizard began. Her words were uneven and strange in her mouth. She had only just begun to learn the finer parts of this language. "You are my friend?"

The Small One smiled. "Yes, I am."

It would be a few more years before the Lizard was able to speak with ease. And though she had difficulty mastering the language, the Small One had even more trouble trying to speak hers. The fleshy ones seemed to have a hard time making the soft trills and clicks that, for the Lizard, came so naturally. Small One would eventually come to call her Trills.

"I still don't understand how you do... that with your tongue."

"Like this." The Lizard made a soft hum. She could feel it in her chest.

The Small One huffed. "Nope, can't do it." She plopped down into the grass. She laid on her back and sighed. "You ever wonder what's out there? Past the sky and the clouds?"

The Lizard hadn't. "Air? Stars?"

"I suppose."

The Lizard took the spot next to her. "Why do you ask?"

"I dunno. Just a curiosity. I just wonder if we keep flying up and up and up, where we would be."

"Perhaps the Sky continues forever," the Lizard said. It was a pleasant thought.

They stayed there until dark, gray clouds swarmed the sky and trickles of rain started to come down. The Small One gathered up her collections of flowers, wrapping them in a white cloth. 

"I'll see you tomorrow?"

The Lizard nodded. She then dipped back into the Sewer to wait out the storm.

The Sewer was a loud place when it stormed. The water flowing in from all directions, the sounds echoing off the brick, filled the air. The Lizard didn't mind it; if anything it was comforting.

She had resigned to sleeping through the storm, but was awoken by the lapping of water at her toes. The water level had risen considerably - much more so than it ever had. The Lizard got up and wandered to the edge of her platform. Water was still pouring into the tunnels and showed no signs of stopping.

The Lizard went back to her small collection of things and started to gather them together. She had just wrapped the green scarf around her neck when she heard and incredibly loud CRACK and the roar of rushing water. She had barely a moment to think before she was entirely encased in water. 

The Lizard was thankful she was made to swim. She let the current carry her, as swimming against it was out of the question. It was a long while that she was in the water. Twice she had to surface for air. When the current finally slowed, she was outside the Sewers, somewhere with dense forests on either side. She was in a river, the water much colder than she was used to.

She drifted for a while, looking back to see how far from home she had gone. She wondered about the Small One. Had she been flooded, too?

"Hail!"

The Lizard turned her head towards the voice.

A red horned man waved at her from the banks. His robes were long and ornately designed. He wore a ring of flowers on his head - the Lizard recognized the yellow ones.

The Lizard wiggled out of the water and approached. She was drenched and her green fabrics hung from her neck. She watched One of Red Horns curiously.

"You get caught up in that storm?"

The Lizard nodded. "A flood."

"It was quite the doosey." One of Red Horns reached into his pocket and offered her a handful of berries. "You look like you could use something to eat. Where are you from?"

The Lizard took the berries. "The Sewers."

"Just the sewers?"

The Lizard nodded.

"Do you have a name?"

The Lizard shook her head. Small One had called her Trills, but that wasn't her name. It hadn't felt like a name.

"Everyone needs a name. It's what makes us who we are." One of Red Horns thought a moment. "Would you mind if I called you Apsu?"

The Lizard licked her eyeball. Apsu. "Apsu."

"It means 'green'. If you would prefer something else, we can find you a-"

The Lizard shook her head. "Apsu is green."

One of Red Horns smiled. "Yes. Now come, follow me. The campsite isn't too far and we can get you dried off and warmed up." He started down a small dirt path in the woods. "You good to go?"

Apsu nodded and followed up the path behind him.

  
  



End file.
